Saturday, September 22, 2018

When Your Body Doesn't Work Right





 The only part about writing which can be a bitch and a quarter is when your fingers don't cooperate and you don't realize it until after you have pressed the 'publish' button.  I'm mean, that really sucks.  You proofread the thing five times-and there's still a couple of problems!
It's embarrassing.

I used to type at least 60 words a minute a few years ago.  I know that because I would start over every time I made a mistake.  That's how I know how well my accuracy was, but enter that seizure I had I had ten years ago, and it's become a struggle.

I'm not going to give up and just accept this as is.  Hell!  If I did that, I'd never have been anything in life: a heavy metal vocalist and guitar "star" in my neighborhood (pity clap).  Hell!  I even taught myself how to play leads-I couldn't imagine that!

Meningitis destroys your brain as quickly as the Japanese destroyed Pearl Harbor, but I somehow recovered from that in 1971. I was in youth sports through the 1970's as part of my physical therapy.   It took me two years to learn how to ride a bicycle, okay?

Well, it's over forty years later, and I'm right back where I started.  My fingers miss keys.  My manual dexterity sucks like a hooker.  Dory the Fish has a better short-term memory than I do, but I'm at the Master's level in school now.

Well, you'll be damned-especially when you find out that I never did drugs.

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